VIKING: THE THRONE OF BEOWULF: The Killing Beast Was Released (Viking, Throne, Legend, Thriller, Beowulf, Murder, Gotland Saga) Read Online Free Page A

Wiglaf,” he muttered, “We have much to discuss.”
    With another tired sigh, Wiglaf walked to his Lord and seated himself in his place. In front of them was a small table, maps spread out before their eyes and it took Wiglaf a moment to understand what he was seeing.
    “These… are the waters we’re sailing on?” he waved his hands over the scrolls and Beowulf nodded.
    “Indeed,” he answered, “’Tis been six days since we left Gotland behind, but the Svears are not as far ahead of us as we initially believed.”
    There was a gleam in his eye that Wiglaf knew far too well; he had grown up with Beowulf, after all and he knew his Lord inside out.
    “You are planning something, Milord,” he said wearily, “What do you have in mind?”
    Beowulf’s smile was predatory and Wiglaf held back another sigh at the sight of it.
    “You know me all too well, my dear Wiglaf,” he chuckled. “I do have a plan and I believe all of you,” he turned to face the rest of them, “Will be in favor of it.”
    “Tell us then,” Eadgils said and the rest of them echoed the same sentiment.

Beowulf pressed his thumb to a single dot on the map he was holding down with his hands. Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance, rolling against the seas and the ship rocked for a moment, tilting dangerously to one side. Wiglaf caught hold of the table to steady his balance and cursed quietly as the others did the same.
    That was when what Beowulf was pointing at registered in his mind.
    “Faro?” his brow furrowed, “You wish for us to double back to Faro and make land there?”
    “Double back?” Eadgils looked agitated now, “Why must we double back? What pursuit or chase involves returning?!”
    He looked as though he was going to continue protesting when Beowulf shook his head.
    “We aren’t returning, Milrod,” he said swiftly, “We will entrap Onela on Faro instead.”
    “And how do you propose we do that?” Eadgils snapped. “He is ahead of us and we have caught nary a sight of him in two days!”
    “Because we have passed over him, Milord,” Beowulf answered calmly. Wiglaf blinked; that was not a possibility he had even considered. In the past two days, spirits had been flagging, given that the man they had been chasing had not been seen – Wiglaf had begun to believe that Onela truly had outrun them all and returned to his own kingdom.
    He hadn’t considered that it might be the other way around, that they might have overrun his ship and missed it in the storm.
    “How can you be so sure?” Eadgils pointed out, “We have barely been able to see anything beyond mist and rain in the past week. How can you be certain that Onela is behind us when we do not even know where we are?!”
    “Because of this,” Beowulf held up a small missive. The scroll was wet and tattered, hanging together by a single thread. Clearly, it had come through the storm and for a moment, Wiglaf wondered about the poor pigeon that had probably killed itself bringing it to them.
    “What is that, Milord?” he asked and Beowulf’s grin widened.

“That, Wiglaf,” he said triumphantly, “Is the missive I received from my man in Onela’s party. Onela is behind us – we did not see them in the storm, but they saw us race past their tattered ship. They took heavy hit from the elements; he doubts they will survive the trip back to their kingdom.”
    Eadgils started back, “You have a man in Onela’s party?!” he exclaimed, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Why did we not hear of this before, Beowulf? What treachery is that?”
    “I did not tell you earlier, Milord,” Beowulf stood his ground, “Because I was sure that we would be able to catch up to him on our own, without aid. The man in question is one of your subjects, loyal to you and your father and your late brother. Would you have had his life endangered simply so you could be aware of his existence?”
    Eadgils sputtered, the protest dying on his lips.
    “Had the existence of a